


The Best by Far

by infernalandmortal



Series: The Best by Far (A Next-Gen AU) [2]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Next-Gen, dang amanda back at it again, what a shock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9543329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernalandmortal/pseuds/infernalandmortal
Summary: "Your entire life has been turned upside down, Jordan.  It's okay to be upset."Jordan slammed her ledger on the desk.  "I'm not upset.  I'm irate."Alexander's even expression didn't falter.  Behind him, Victoria stood up.  "Okay.  So let's go give all the slavers of Ketterdam hell."(A Six of Crows next-generation AU.  Because why not.)





	1. Jordan - Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> So I've been working on this AU for a while and I'm really excited to share it with you. Both the title and summary are still working aspects of the story (because I suck at this sort of thing) but I really hope you enjoy my next-gen SoC kiddos.  
> Special thanks to savagekaz and dirtyhandsnet on Tumblr for loving this idea so much that they actually made it take off on Tumblr. I hope this doesn't disappoint.

_ Six years after the events of Crooked Kingdom... _

As Kaz Brekker stared out the fourth-floor window, he twirled the slim gold band around his ungloved finger, trying not to imagine it where it should be: on the slim dark finger of a girl who was most likely dead and gone.

He heard her voice in his head, a painful but welcome reminder.  “ _ Don't be so dramatic, Kaz,”  _ she'd say with that endearing eyeroll he had come to love.

_ “Then come home,” _ he'd say to her now.

He looked out his office window, moving until he could see Fifth Harbor, his eyes lingering on  _ The Wraith _ 's berth.  Through the dark night and pouring rain, he couldn’t see much, but it was the thought that counted.  That berth had been empty for three years, her captain and crew lost somewhere between Novyi Zem and Ketterdam.  Kaz had tried to bring her home, had deployed his every resource, even asked Nikolai for help at great (and often irritating) expense, but the ship had vanished.

And with it had been the girl he wanted to marry.

He tucked the ring into its box and snapped the box closed, hiding it in the false bottom of his desk drawer.  There was a sudden commotion downstairs, loud shouts that signaled a brawl or a heist.  Either way, he wasn't about to let his people get into any dirty business that he didn't have his hands in.

When he reached the first landing, he realized it was rapping at the door that was causing such a disturbance.  He strode for the door, ignoring the apprehensive looks of his people.  No one dared knock on the door of the Slat without a good reason, a reason that only Kaz Brekker needed to attend to.

He recognized the two boys on the doorstep - they were part of Inej’s crew, recruited after a raid done right on the edge of the Barrel.  His heart made a sickening leap in his chest.

“What business?” To his own ears, his voice was hoarse and harsh.

The taller one shifted a bundle in his arms.  Kaz didn’t invite them in out of the rain, merely regarded them with a cool stare.  “We came from  _ The Wraith.   _ We have a message from Inej Ghafa.”

Kaz turned to the sitting room.  “Everyone out!”  No one argued but there were plenty of curious whispering, lingering stares that Kaz knew he would have to quell eventually.

He turned to them, inviting them in by posture though not by word.  “What is the message?”

The taller boy shifted the blankets in his arms, handing Kaz a worn scrap of paper.  Kaz forced his hands not to tremble as he squinted through the fading ink.

_ Kaz, _

_ I hope this reaches you.  I haven’t much time and I know that most of what I could say will leave you with questions.   _ The Wraith  _ was boarded, its markings and flags stripped, and my crew and I were taken hostage.  It has taken us three years to plan even this small of an escape.  If I run, my remaining crew will only suffer further.  I refuse to let that happen. _

_ This little girl’s name is Jordan.  She is our daughter but I don’t expect you to care for her.  A good mother always and only wants her her child to be safe.  That’s why I sent her to you.  Please find her somewhere safe, someone who will raise her and care for her.  For me. _

_ I can hear you laughing now. Yes, Ketterdam is not a safe place for a child.  But you can make a world for her that is.  I know because you did it for me.  So stop grumbling, Kaz. _

_ I will find a way home to you. I’m sorry.  I miss you. _

_ I love you. _

_ -Inej _

He took a deep breath, tucked the letter into his breast pocket and reached for the bundle in the boy’s arms.  “Careful, she’s asleep,” he murmured but his caution went unheeded to Kaz’s ears.

She looked like her mother, Kaz realized with a clench of his heart, though she had a very Kerch jaw.  She stirred, blinked sleepily and regarded him with bleary coffee-brown eyes.  “Where’s Mama?” she asked, her voice small.

Kaz couldn’t look away.  With a look, he dismissed Inej’s men, knowing he should let them stay, unable to bear the thought.  “Your mother… she’s not here.  She sent you to me so I could keep you safe.”

A little frown creased her brow.  “Are you my papa?”

Kaz held her a little tighter, pressing her head to his shoulder.  “I’m your papa, Jordan.”  The name was unfamiliar on his tongue.  He could have kissed or killed Inej for choosing it for their daughter.  “You’re safe now.”

She made a small noise and fell silent, nuzzling into his neck.  Kaz sighed, wondering what is was about this girl that made him want to burn down the world for her.

He really was horrible at caring for children.  He should ask Jesper for pointers.

* * *

“Get down!”

The bullet whizzed straight past Jordan’s ear just before she ducked.  The man in front of her fell as she turned to glare over her shoulder.  “You could have shot me!”

Alexander holstered his revolvers, a broad grin splitting his face.  Jordan tucked her knife into the sheath on her arm. “You okay, Vickie?” she asked, gingerly touching the cut on her cheek.  Alexander’s frown was one of concern.  She shrugged.   _ I’m okay. _

“Don't call me Vickie,” Victoria grumbled, casually checking Alexander for injuries. 

“I'm fine, Tori,” he murmured, batting her hand away when her fingers danced over a burn on his shirt. “It was me, not them.”

“As long as you're not spontaneously combusting, I'm happy,” Jordan quipped, checking the window. “Can you both climb?  We need to go before anyone-” Jordan sprang back as the windowpane shattered. “Damn!”

“You were saying?” Victoria snarked.  Jordan rolled her eyes. Alexander positioned himself protectively between Victoria and the only other exit in the room. Jordan reached for her knife again and Victoria made a grab for her pistol.

When the door banged open, both of the Fahey-Van Eck children almost shot their father.

“What the hell?” Jesper Fahey put his hands in the air until his children put their weapons down.  Jordan took a split second to appreciate the fury spreading over Victoria’s face.  “What are you doing here?”

“What are  _ you  _ doing here, Da?” Alexander holstered his revolvers for the second time.  Jordan sheathed her knife with an exasperated sigh, fighting a smile when she saw that Victoria practically had steam coming from her ears.

“I could ask you the same question.  This is a pleasure house.”

“It was,” Jordan shrugged, planting her hands on her hips.  “I convinced them to… relocate.”

“Spoken like a Barrel boss.”

Jordan bit her lip, scanning the room.  Alexander and Victoria shared an ‘uh-oh’ look between the two of them.  “Did you break the window?” She asked Jesper.

“Scheming face?” She heard Alexander whisper to his sister.

“Most likely,” she whispered back, poking him in the side to shush him.

“No.” Jesper’s response came out more of a question. Before Jordan could continue her line of thought, measuring the room’s dimensions and trying to envision what could have broken the window, rapid gunfire sounded from the back of the house.

“Run now, think later,” Alexander said, shoving Jordan in the back until she broke into a run, following Jesper and Victoria down the stairs.

They made it to the streets, narrowly skirting heavy gunfire, their feet loud on the streets.  Jordan had to smile when she saw Jesper grinning, presumably thinking of his glory days.

“That was something,” she breathed, watching her breath float away on the cold wind.  She cataloged their successes.  Twenty-some girls were freed and, while Alexander had given chase to the man who owned the pleasure house, Victoria had uncovered very interesting financial documents that would surely cause the man’s ruin at the Exchange.

Alexander appeared at her side, materializing from the shadows, his blue eyes and dark skin glowing in the lights of the street lamp. “We did good.”

Jordan saw Victoria showing Jesper the papers she retrieved from the pleasure house’s office.  “Yeah,” she agreed.  “Not bad.”

They made it to Victoria’s favorite waffle house, a rickety building crammed between two houses.  Jordan and Alexander shared a plate of chocolate-chip waffles while Jesper and Victoria ordered heaping plates of their own.

Victoria was lean and pale, all sharp angles and messy reddish-brown hair.  When she smiled, the world seemed to light up.  Jordan watched heads turn across the restaurant when she laughed.  Alexander’s eyes crinkled around the edges, fondness playing at his features.  As polar as they were to one another, there was real unreplicatable love between them.

Next to them both, Jordan felt plain and inadequate.  Distasteful people described her as exotic, with her brown Suli skin and matching eyes, but she preferred the anonymity that her father’s looks provided.  She was often jealous of Victoria and Wylan.  No one ever stared at them when they walked down the street.

Alexander shoved the whipped cream onto Jordan’s side of the waffles.  “She likes it,” he said to his father’s raised eyebrow.

“And you don’t?” Jesper pretended to be dramatically wounded.  “Whose son are you?”  Alexander laughed under his breath while Victoria rolled her eyes. “Good to see you’re not at that point yet where you’re embarrassed by your father’s behavior.”

Jordan could never tell if he was kidding.  She wasn’t great with this sort of thing.

She took a bite of her waffles, letting the whipped cream melt on her tongue.  The cut on her cheek stung when she chewed.  Alexander touched it hesitantly with the back of his hand.  His skin was cool.  “You should clean that out.”

She shrugged.  “First food.  Then sleep.”

Alexander’s hand dropped from her cheek.  His fingers tangled in a strand of her hair.  She tried not to shiver.  “Food, personal care, sleep.  In that order.”

Jesper was too busy reading over Victoria’s stolen document to pay them much mind but Victoria’s clever grey eyes were tracking her brother’s every move.  “Not a word,” Alexander said lowly to Victoria, referencing some secret to which Jordan wasn’t privy.  She didn’t mind - siblings needed their secrets.

She had secrets of her own, most notably the birth certificate she had found in her father’s office this morning. She had wanted to tell Alexander about it but with him had come Victoria and she was hesitant to let the younger Fahey-Van Eck in on such a potentially-volatile secret.  Besides, this had been Victoria’s first job with them and Jordan didn’t want to rattle her.

The birth certificate was hers, but not.  It carried a different last name but the birth date was hers.   _ Jordan Ghafa.   _ It was so familiar but she needed Alexander’s clever mind to make sure she wasn’t insane.

When the plates were cleared, they walked home in the pitch black.  Victoria and Alexander wandered ahead; Victoria was talking gleefully about the Exchange and Alexander was listening intently. Jordan jammed her hands in her pockets, feeling the handle of the knife on her belt through her coat’s lining.

“You did good work tonight,” Jesper said, coming up behind her.  “Your mother would be proud.”

Jordan’s head snapped toward him.  “My mother?”

Jesper’s face morphed from concerned to guilty.  “Kaz never told you, did he?  Sweet  _ Ghezen _ .”

“Told me what?” Jordan’s voice sounded uncharacteristically tight to her own ears.

“He never told you about your mother?” Now Jesper wore the face of a man who now knows he shouldn’t have said anything.

“No. Nothing.” She felt her eyes hardening.  If Victoria were beside her, she would be telling Jordan to shut up.

They were walking through Fifth Harbor now.  The cry of gulls and the lapping of waves against the boat hulls soothed her nerves.  Jesper was scanning the streets as if seeking an answer to Jordan’s questions.  Jordan counted the berths, once, twice and then again.

“Hey!” Jordan exclaimed.  Ahead of them, Alexander ground to a halt, dragging Victoria with him.  “There’s a ship in berth 22.  In  _ The Wraith _ ’s spot.”

“So?” Victoria’s pale brow was drawn.  Two bells sounded above them.  Kaz would be furious with her for being home late but Jesper’s eyes - wider than dinner plates - and Alexander’s slack jaw convinced her feet to stay.

“There isn’t supposed to be a ship in berth 22,” Jesper murmured.  He turned abruptly to his children, all joviality out of his tone.. “You two, get home.  Tell your father I’ve gone to the Crow Club.  Jordan, go home.”

Alexander gave Jordan a worried look as his father sprinted toward the Dregs-owned gambling hall.  “What the…?”

Jordan shrugged, worry gnawing at her heart.   _ Something is about to happen.   _ “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Victoria gave her a hug.  “See you, Jordan.”

“You were great,” she told her younger friend.  The Fahey-Van Ecks set off for home but Jordan remained, pacing the planks of the harbor while staring at the offending ship.

_ Screw this,  _ she thought.   _ I’m not going to wait for them to find out what’s going on.  I’m Jordan Brekker.  I get my own answers. _

Running her hand over the knife sheathed on her forearm, she approached the ship.  It was small and stripped bare of any adornments or recognizable marks and there was no sign of life onboard.  She reasoned that the crew had gone out for the night, off to gambling dens or pubs or who knows where.  But that rationale wasn’t enough to sate her curiosity.

She swung aboard the ship, the lack of gangplank little to deter her.  The planks creaked under her feet as she made her way belowdecks to where the captain’s quarters would most likely be.  The door hung ajar, a small light flickering in the shadows.  Knife at the ready, she peeked around the corner.

A woman, slight and small with large brown eyes, blinked back at her, seemingly unsurprised by her arrival.  Jordan stepped fully into the doorway, keeping her face in shadows, stifling a sigh of resignation.  “Who are you?” The woman asked in accented Kerch.

“Who are you?” Jordan countered, sweeping the room for any sign of danger.  “You aren’t to be docked in this berth.”

The barest of smiles tugged at her lips.  “But I am.  This is my berth.”

“This…” Jordan looked around the room as if to find some clue contrary to her assumption.  “This is  _ The Wraith _ ?”

The woman shifted on the bed, another small smile flickering at the edge of her mouth.  “It was.  But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Jordan slipped from the shadows.  The woman’s eyes went wide, darting to take in all of Jordan, her fitted black clothes, her choppy black hair, the knife on her belt.  “Jordan?” Her voice was a tiny whisper, a trembling thing.

“How… How did you know?” Jordan felt the ship rock under her feet.  Everything was moving too fast.  She wanted Alexander so she could grab at his wrist, feel his solid presence.

“He didn’t tell you?  About me?” Hurt flashed across the woman’s face as she stood.  She was a couple inches shorter than Jordan but as thin as a sheaf of Victoria’s drawing paper.  It was painfully obvious that she hadn’t eaten well in a long time.  But shouldn’t a ship’s captain have enough to eat?

“Who didn’t- What?” How she hated to stutter.  She tried to put herself together but it was an uneasy thing when there were more questions than answers.

“Kaz Brekker.”  She said the name like it was a prayer.

Jordan nodded.  “My papa.  What about him?”

“He didn’t tell you about me?  About the Wraith?”

She nodded.  “He did, all the time.  Inej Ghafa, former Menagerie girl, spider, and captain of the eponymous ship.”  Victoria would be proud of her vocabulary.  “She was a Dregs legend, the best one.”  Jordan felt a piece of a puzzle click into place.  She remembered the document she had found in her father’s safe.  _ Saints, no. _

The woman extended a hand as if to shake Jordan’s.  “My name is Inej Ghafa.  But you can call me the Wraith if you’d rather.”

Running footsteps from above decks told Jordan that they were no longer alone.  “Stay back,” she told Inej, silently closing the door and leaning her full weight against it.  After a moment, she heard familiar voices and flung it open, effectively startling the twelve-year-old messenger employed by the Dregs.  “What business?”

“Kaz sent me to find out who was in the berth,” he stuttered, voice full of unease.  Jordan would have expressed sympathy at any given time but she wanted nothing more than answers and to be off this ship.  

“Tell him…” Inej’s voice was trembling but her gaze was sure.  “Tell him that the Wraith is home.  He’ll come.”

The boy nodded, sprinting back the way he came.  Jordan turned to Inej again, her back against the door, her spine colliding with the handle.  “How did you know my name.”

“Jordan Rietveld saved his brother’s life in death,” Inej murmured, studying her hands.  “I chose that name because I had hoped you would be the one to carry others to the shore.”

Jordan’s world tilted on its axis.  Memories surfaced, little snippets of glossy hair clenched in her fists, a term of endearment in Suli, a bedtime story in Ravkan.  It was her voice.

It couldn’t be.

She lost track of how long they stood there and stared at one another but the familiar sound of cane-and-foot broke Jordan out of her thoughts.  “Papa!” She shouted up the stairs.  “Down here!”

She was surprised to hear her father breathless.  “Inej?” His voice was hopeful, burning as it left his mouth and something that Jordan could almost consider to be humble.

She took two tentative steps toward the door, toward Kaz, and reached out with one hand.  Jordan watched in awe as he took it, twining their fingers together and touching his lips to her forehead.  “Inej,” he whispered and there was no pain in his voice.  Jordan felt like a stranger, an intruder.  Again, she missed Alexander’s steady presence.

“Hello, love.” The smile crossing her face was so bright it was blinding.  Jordan slipped from the room, leaving them to their moment, her throat tight and her stomach clenching.

_ Who are you?  _ She wanted to ask the woman in her father’s arms.   _ Are you my mother?  Why did you leave me.  Why did you come back? _

She backed out of the room, sprinting above decks, letting her feet carry her to the Van Eck estate.  She didn’t care how late it was.  She needed her best friend.


	2. Adjustment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan tells Alexander a story. Victoria and Wylan receive a strange letter. Dirtyhands comes out to play.

Alexander was nearly asleep by the fire when Jordan started hammering at the door.

She never pounded nor slammed; she was always the picture of calm and order, always knocking demurely or ringing the bell when there was one. When he flung open the door, she shoved past him, slamming and locking the door before leaning against it.

“Are you…okay?” He asked hesitantly, taking in her tangled hair, the wild anxiety in her eyes, the way she gnawed on her lower lip. Her breath was coming in harsh gasps. She obviously wasn’t but sometimes he felt he owed her the courtesy of a lie. “Did you run here?”

She nodded, the cut on her cheek flexing as she moved. “Okay, come here.” He pulled her into the kitchen, effectively startling the stray cat Victoria had let in three nights ago. “Sit down. I’m cleaning that.”

He felt her calming as he worked; the tense muscles on her face smoothed and her hunched shoulders relaxed. He didn’t speak until he was done and only when her cut was cleaned and bandaged did he kneel before her perch on the stool and say, “talk.”

No matter how irate Jordan was, how stressed or tired or confused, her stories were impeccably told, always without room for question or error. She told every detail as if she was reading it from a page, her disturbingly perfect recall only working to her credit.

She told him about the ship in berth 22, the woman who looked like her, and a birth certificate she had found in her father’s safe with the name Jordan Ghafa inscribed in Kaz’s careful hand. He listened to it all, took it in more of a stride than Jordan was at the time, and waited for her story to wear out.

“I don’t know what to do,” she gritted out, her slim fingers clenching into a fist. “She’s there and my papa was holding her and… It’s all wrong, Alexander.”

“How is it wrong?”

She let out a loud sigh, her teeth sinking into her lip. “Because my father doesn’t hold people. And how dare she just come back! She left me!” Her voice rose, rasping against the walls. “She sent me to this city and stayed!”

Alexander drummed his fingers against his leg. His thighs were beginning to cramp but he stayed still. Jordan’s dark eyes were glossy with anger, resting on his face as if to burn his skin to shreds. “Maybe she didn’t mean to leave you,” he said tentatively. “You said she looked underfed and afraid. Maybe something happened.”

Jordan snorted incredulously. “Something that took 14 years?”

Alexander shrugged, standing up. “I don’t know. Just don’t judge too quickly, okay?” She sighed, brushing her fingers over the bandage on her cheek. Alexander pulled her off the stool and tugged her to the staircase. “Sleep here tonight. Go home tomorrow and talk to your father.”

The clock chimed two bells. The bags under Jordan’s eyes were dark and deep. “Alright,” she murmured, climbing the stairs obediently with Alexander at her back.

They crossed the hall to his room and Jordan went for the bureau, pulling a shirt from his drawer that he knew would fall to her knees. He stripped off his shirt and she turned around so he could divest himself of his pants. This had been their routine since they were eight years old and they knew it as well as they knew breathing.

Jordan burrowed under the covers; Alexander had to laugh at the way she was covered up to her eyes in blankets. He slipped in next to her, letting her lean her forehead against his shoulder. “Goodnight, Jordie.”

Her voice caught on a giggle. “Goodnight, Al.”

He shoved her. She laughed and he thought he might get drunk on the sound if he could.

* * *

Wylan was not even a little surprised to see Jordan Brekker asleep in Alexander’s bed.

He peered through the doorway, squinting to see in the morning light fighting for purchase through Alexander’s window. Jordan was secure in his arms, her head on his chest. Alexander’s free hand was tangled in her hair with the other one wrapped around her waist. It made Wylan miss his husband, who hadn’t come home last night, sending a messenger from the Slat in lieu of his presence.

“Morning,” Victoria whispered from behind him.

Wylan turned, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. “Morning, Victoria. Sleep well?”

She shrugged and yawned, her brown-gold hair a tangled mess around her shoulders. “Should I wake them up?”

Wylan caught sight of Jordan’s furrowed brow, identical to her father’s in sleep. “No, let them sleep.”

Victoria followed her father downstairs obediently, padding into the kitchen to get cups of tea. “What happened last night?” Victoria asked. “I got home and went to bed and I woke up to banging on the door. It was Jordan, so I let Alexander handle it.”

Wylan nodded, having only a vague idea of the events of last night that were conveyed through Jesper’s hastily-relayed message. His heart beat a little faster considering the possibility that the Wraith was home for good this time. Then he thought of the girl upstairs, asleep in his son’s arms, who had no idea who Inej Ghafa was or why her presence would turn Kaz inside out.

“I’m going down to the Slat after breakfast,” he told his daughter, who was studiously sipping at the black tea the servants knew to leave for her.

“Can I come?” She asked after a hard swallow.

Wylan sighed. “If Jordan and Alexander are coming, you may as well. Otherwise you can go to the Exchange, get started early.”

“You’re leaving already?” Alexander asked from the middle of the staircase. His shirt was a rumpled mess and there were wrinkles on his cheek from the pillowcase.

“You have university classes at 11,” Victoria reminded her brother with all the superiority of a younger sister.

Alexander ruffled her hair before slinging his long legs over the chairs, sitting backwards with his arms crossed over the chair back. Wylan was fondly reminded of Jesper. “I’ll be gone by then. I’m never late.”

Victoria pushed her chair back. “I’m going to get dressed. Alexander, wake Jordan up, will you?”

“Bossy, bossy.” Alexander tweaked the end of her braid as she slipped past him. He watched Victoria go upstairs, then turned toward his father.

Wylan was still acquainting himself with the concept of looking up at his son, who had sprouted like corn over the past year or so. “What happened at the harbor last night?” Alexander asked, his face the picture of friendly concern. “Jordan’s upset. And Jordan never gets upset.”

Wylan sighed. “Her mother is back.”

Alexander buried his head in his hands. “I thought she died. All these years, I thought she died.”

Wylan pushed a hand through his hair. “We all did. She was - is - the captain of a ship. You may know her as the Wraith.”

When he lifted his head, Alexander’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. “The Wraith. Inej Ghafa is Jordan’s mother?”

Wylan nearly laughed at his son’s surprise. “It wouldn’t shock you so much if you had known them when they were young. Kaz was impossibly in love with Inej when he could bear to admit it. He was going to marry her.” The last sentence was said softly. 

“She doesn’t know a thing about her mother,” Alexander mused. “If Kaz loved her so much, why wouldn’t he tell Jordan anything about her?”

“Kaz never talks about what pains him,” Wylan said gently. “And Inej’s disappearance pained him most of all.”

“Now that she’s back, what will he do?”

Wylan looked toward the door, hoping Jesper would be home before he had to go to the Exchange. “He’ll rip the city apart until he gets vengeance for whoever took her.”

Alexander paused for a moment, picking at his cuticles. “Is...Is Jordan Kaz’s daughter? By blood?” Wylan must have made a strange expression because Alexander hurried to explain. “If she was at sea and was captured… There are things that happen.”

Wylan tried not to chuckle at the embarrassment on Alexander’s face. “She is Inej’s daughter. There’s no empirical proof but I know it like I know how to breathe.” He smiled, remembering his favorite things about the small Suli girl and how they echoed in her daughter. “Jordan has her determination, her sense of justice and her strength.”

Relief crossed his face, though he said nothing to explain his question. “I’m glad.” He trailed off after a moment, lost in his thoughts. “I’m going to wake Jordan and take her home.”

Wylan watched him go, praying that Inej was all right, elated at the possibility of seeing her again.

* * *

Victoria slung her satchel over her shoulder as she headed toward the Exchange, diving into the bustling crowd of the Financial District with well-practiced finesse. Many of the merchants called morning greetings to her and asked after her father. She gave them the same answers she always did and they gave her the same farewells.

“Every day is the same,” she muttered to no one in particular as she locked herself in her father’s office and began scanning the morning numbers. She was so absorbed in her work, she didn’t even hear the rapping on the door.

“What business?” She asked, poking her head out the door in answer to the young messenger standing in the hall.

“Victoria Van Eck?” He asked hesitantly.

Victoria suppressed an eye-roll. “Yes, that’s me.”

He extended an envelope. “This came for you and your father. It has an old postmark but I thought you might want it.”

Victoria turned the heavy envelope over in her hands. The creamy paper bore no return address and an unfamiliar hand. “Thank you.”

The messenger boy hesitated for a moment. “You don’t like being called Victoria Van Eck, do you?”

Taken aback, Victoria almost forgot to reply. “I prefer Victoria Fahey. Victoria Van Eck has too many v’s.”

He gave her a toothy grin. “Duly noted.”

“Wait.” Victoria stopped him before he turned to go. “What’s your name?”

“Arik,” he answered with a funny little bow of his head.

Victoria extended her hand. “Pleasure.”

He shook it firmly, then took his leave. Victoria watched him go for a moment, shaking her head as she shut and bolted the door once more.

She slid her pinky finger under the envelope’s flap and eased it open, careful not to rip the heavy paper.

There was no greeting, just spidery script in a heavy hand. The words were sharp and harsh and rudely addressing her father. Victoria scanned the three or so pages for a signature and, finding none, began to read it from the beginning more thoroughly.

“You need to stop locking the door,” her father told her, letting himself in with the key Jesper made him carry at all times. “One of these days you’re going to lock yourself out. Or me in,” he added as an afterthought, sinking into his desk chair.

“Look at this, Father,” she extended the letter. Wylan took it, squinting at the words, before handing it back to Victoria. “Sorry.”

Wylan grinned. “It’s fine. Who’s it from? Is it a love letter?”

Victoria grimaced while her father laughed. “Disgusting!” She glared at her father while reaching for her glasses. “No, it’s not signed.”

Her father frowned. “Interesting. What does it say?”

Victoria scanned it again, slower now that she had her glasses. “It’s addressed to you, I think… Should we have Kaz analyze the writing?”

Wylan leaned back in his desk. “Read some of it to me.”

“‘I think it’s absolutely ludicrous that you have taken the Van Eck empire - one you were never in a position to control - and turned it into-’ What’s wrong, Da?”

Victoria watched her father’s face drain of color. “I know who this is from.” He stood abruptly. “I need to speak with your father. Stay here.”

With that, he was gone, not even bothering with his coat or scarf. Victoria picked up the envelope that had held the mystery letter. The postage stamp was old and faded but she if she squinted hard enough he could make the name out.

"Hellgate?" She said aloud, her voice stunned in the silence. She reached for her coat and satchel, jamming the envelope in her pocket. A hunch grew in her mind. If she was right, she had to tell Kaz.

* * *

In retrospect, Alexander should have kept Jordan away from home a little longer.

The moment she entered her home, she was stalking upstairs to her father’s office. Alexander followed at her heels, attempting to talk her down from whatever rant she was about to release. 

When he reached the office, Jordan was standing before Kaz’s desk. A slim Suli woman with wide brown eyes was perched on the armchair against the wall watching the interaction. She gave Alexander a small smile when he caught her eye.

“Inej,” he murmured softly, moving to stand near her so he could watch Jordan. “I’m Alexander Van Eck.”

She gave him a nod. He was reminded of his grandmother on her bad days. It made him sad. “You’re Jes and Wylan’s son?”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jordan’s anger pulled his attention to the room. “You’re just going to let her back here? Now? After what she did?” Her voice was steel. Kaz’s eyes were equally impassive. “She left me, Papa! She abandoned me in a city I didn’t know with people I didn’t know. I was three, for Saint’s sake!”

“I don’t particularly care what she’s done!” Kaz shouted. Jordan merely blinked in the face of her father’s anger. Alexander wanted to excuse himself from the room but Inej’s steady gaze held him fast. “She is your mother and you will respect her  presence in this home!”

Alexander saw Victoria slip in, shaking out her hair and folding her coat over her arm. “The door was open,” she whispered. “What did I miss?”

Alexander considered asking her why she wasn’t at the Exchange but thought better of it. “Jordan is angry as hell.”

Victoria cocked an eyebrow at him, fiddling with a folded envelope in her hands. “No kidding.”

“I am respecting her presence in this home!” Jordan roared back. “But I cannot condone your silence on the actions of those who kidnapped and enslaved her.  Again!”

“She’s really mad,” Victoria whispered to Alexander, who nodded. He could always tell when Jordan was angry because her words turned formal and her tone turned stiff.  Inej, who had been staring at the wall, turned to watch her daughter. Looking at her, everything of Jordan not evident in her father now made sense. Jordan had Inej’s slender hands, slim frame and coppery skin. She was every bit as beautiful as her daughter.   


“There will be no silence, Jordan.” Kaz was deadly-calm now. Dirtyhands was coming out to play and Jordan was feeding off that darkness. “No one harms the Wraith and goes without punishment.” Beside him, Alexander saw Inej flinch. “But we are Brekkers and we do not act rashly. Understood?”   


J ordan pursed her lips as she nodded. After a moment, the scared child was replaced with a scheming Barrel rat. “Can I help with the plans?”   


The biggest uh-oh in Ketterdam ran through Alexander’s mind like a spooked horse when Kaz nodded.

Jordan grinned, all bared teeth and glinting eyes. “Good. Because I already have some ideas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't feel like this was as good as the last chapter, but I tried... Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


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